


all my friends, you'll find your way (a love, a lantern in the snow)

by teamfreeawesome



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Asexuality, Character Study, Fluff and Angst, Insecurity, M/M, Pining, Romance, Self-Acceptance, Self-Discovery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-01
Updated: 2018-05-01
Packaged: 2019-04-30 22:19:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,945
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14506680
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/teamfreeawesome/pseuds/teamfreeawesome
Summary: Willy is twenty-one, and he’s never had sex.





	all my friends, you'll find your way (a love, a lantern in the snow)

**Author's Note:**

> title from 'all my friends' by dermot kennedy. 
> 
> disclaimer: no harm was intended by the writing of this. i don't, in any way, equate these fictional characters to their real-life counterparts.
> 
> detailed warnings in the endnotes.

Willy is twenty-one, and he’s never had sex.

In the grand scheme of things, it’s not really a huge deal. It’s just that –

Well, everyone thinks that he has. Everyone thinks that he wants to. He’s good at bullshitting; all his friends - plus the couple of dudes on the team that care about his sex life - all think that he’s had sex, and that he liked it. And, he’s like. He’s seen porn, or whatever. He didn’t really enjoy it, but he’s seen it. It’s almost like –

It’s like people think he’s too hot to have never had sex. They can’t possibly imagine a world where he hasn’t slept with someone because the only reason that people don’t fuck is because they’ve never had the opportunity, right?

“Wait, so like. You’ve never -?”

Mitch sounds so incredulous. His eyebrows are almost disappearing into his hair.

“I -” Willy starts.

He’s not really sure how to answer. He feels like he’s stuck on a rock in the middle of the ocean, and a storm is coming. When he was younger, he thought that sex needed to be special. That he just needed to wait for the right person, and it just so happened that, despite the people who were interested, the right person hadn’t turned up yet. That the reason he didn’t want sex was because his soulmate wasn’t here. That he hadn’t found his true love yet.

It’s not like he hasn’t had crushes. But having a crush –

He’s not sure that his idea of a crush is the same as other people’s.

“I thought -” he tries again.

“Yeah?” Mitch asks.

“I thought – I wanted to wait. I kept wanting to wait.”

Mitch blinks. Shifts in his seat. Traces the condensation on the table with an idle finger.

“Okay,” he says. “I don’t – you’re going to have to explain – I’m not sure what you’re trying to tell me, dude.”

“I -”

 

//

 

Willy thinks that maybe he’s never had crushes like other people have crushes. When he likes someone, he –

Listen, he does –

He does want to touch that person. But it’s more –

The things he wants are _different_. He remembers having a crush on a boy, Nick, when he was younger. All he’d wanted to do was reach out and touch Nick’s hand. He’d wanted to tangle their fingers together and let his feet rest in Nick’s lap. He remembers the summer they’d travelled together, and the way the train journeys had seemed to stretch on forever, blurring into each other until each place was nearly indistinguishable. He remembers the heat of the summer, and the way the sun had felt on his skin. Remembers the smell of sunscreen, and how cold the air conditioning on the train had been in the evenings. Remembers their journey home, and the way he’d wanted to lean into Nick’s body; the way he’d wanted to let his head rest on Nick’s shoulder. He –

He remembers it as this yearning, tugging feeling in his belly. All he’d wanted, desperately and kind of painfully, was Nick’s arm around his shoulders. He remembers wanting to be pulled close; to slide into Nick’s space and be welcomed there. Wanting to feel the heat of their bodies mingling. To feel safe.

(He remembers the thud of his heart, and the way it felt to not be quite brave enough).

When he thinks about it now, it seems strange. Or, not strange for _him_. But strange when he thinks about how other people talk about their crushes. The way they think about their crushes. The way they imagine kissing them. How they imagine touching them. Willy, he’s –

He didn’t, not once, ever, want to lean in and kiss Nick. Never wanted to touch him in a way that would lead somewhere other than the sharing of space. He wanted –

God, he wanted romance. He liked Nick. Wanted to touch his hand softly. Gently. Had these ridiculous fantasies about Nick in his thirties, laughing with Willy in a supermarket. Of cuddling on the sofa and watching soft, trashy movies. Fantasies of a shared bed; of tangled limbs, but it was never –

Never post-coital. It was about affection.

 

//

 

Talking about this feels weird in Willy’s mouth. It’s –

He’s not describing a presence of something. He’s describing a lack.

“Dude,” Mitch says. He taps Willy’s hand softly. “I – maybe I won’t get it, but I’m not going to judge, bro.”

The table is vibrating between them with the way Willy’s leg is shaking. He can’t seem to get his body to listen to him. There’s sweat prickling under his armpits, and he thinks his shirt might be sticking to his back with it too.

“It’s not about you judging me,” Willy says. “Or, I mean, some of it is. But it’s more about finding the words.”

Mitch settles back into his chair. Lets his limbs go slack. It’s like a string has been cut, and suddenly he’s soft. Non-threatening.

“I know I don’t exactly have a reputation for patience,” Mitch starts, cheeks flushing a little. “But this is important to you. So, it’s important to me. Take your time.”

And Willy –

Willy takes a deep, shuddery, painful kind of breath and then –

Lets it out.

 

//

 

When Willy met Zach, something went squirmy in his belly.

Listen, he’s had boyfriends before. Had some girlfriends, too. But it was always –

Anna was the worst. Or, the best maybe. She was so lovely. She had this long hair that used to feel like silk when Willy touched the ends. Her smile –

Fuck. Her smile made Willy’s hands feel desperate. She would smile, and Willy would melt. Would want to reach out. Touch her hand. He would want so many things. Wanted her to touch him, on the knee to get his attention.

At the time, he thought he was waiting for her. Waiting for her to be ready. Waiting for the touch at his knee to become a slide up to his thigh. It –

That whole relationship felt like tension. He remembers Anna, and he remembers the knotted, ugly feeling he felt in his belly. The way he mistook stress and fear for butterflies.

The thing was, it wasn’t about her. It was about _him_.

“My roommate is away next weekend,” Anna had said to him, two months into their relationship.

“I love you,” she’d said, as she’d leaned in.

Her hair had swung forwards, her eyelids had fluttered shut, and Willy’s heart had been pounding. She’d been so close. Willy had been able to feel the heat from her body and the way her breath had brushed over his lips. She had closed the gap, and –

All Willy had been able to see was the way her eyebrows looked up close. The way her makeup had sat on her face. Her hand had come up to cradle Willy’s face, her thumb brushing Willy’s cheek, and –

Afterwards, that was the only bit he could focus on. When she’d left, looking awkward and dissatisfied, Willy hadn’t been able to think about anything but the soft affection of the gesture; of the way it had felt to be touched like something precious.

The kiss, though. The kiss had just been –

Boring.

 

//

 

Willy knows that Mitch is meeting Auston later, and there’s a part of him that feels bitter about that. A part of him that’s desperate to be normal. Sometimes, Willy wakes up and thinks _but maybe I need to try_. He skates out onto the rink, scores a goal and thinks _tonight_. _Tonight, I’m going to find someone to fuck me._ It’s like there’s a little, ugly, hissing thing sat on his shoulder that won’t stop whispering in his ear. It’s his mother’s voice. His father’s voice. It’s every voice of every person who’s ever talked about sex like it’s a necessity; like it’s expected. Like the weirdest thing they can imagine is someone not wanting sex. Like the fact that he doesn’t want to sleep with someone means that he’s broken.

Most days, though, he knows himself. Is sure of himself. Crushes that voice before it catches. 

“I don’t want to have sex,” Willy says. “With anybody.”

Mitch blinks.

“Okay,” he says, but there’s –

There’s a silence that sounds like it’s waiting. Waiting for Willy to elaborate.

“I just – the idea of -” Willy pauses. Takes a breath. “I always thought that I hadn’t had sex because I hadn’t met the right person yet. That I hadn’t met anyone that I trusted enough. It – fuck, it was all wrapped up in the idea of trust in my mind, you know?”

“Trust is important.”

“Yeah,” Willy says. “But it wasn’t – it’s not that it isn’t about trust, for me. But that’s a relationship thing, not a sex thing. I was talking to Matt the other day, and he said something about – I don’t even know, but like. I realised I don’t – the idea of sex is so intensely stressful. I don’t want to – to -”

“To?” Mitch prompts.

“It’s not that it’s gross,” Willy says. “It’s not – gross is the wrong word, but the idea of having to touch someone else like that is – it’s like my brain can’t wrap itself around the idea. I just keep sliding away from the thought of it. I can’t get a grip on the image of it, and I don’t want to. It makes me feel _weird_. Like, a little sick. It makes my stomach go twisty. And I – the idea of someone touching _me_ –

I really, really don’t want that.

Touching myself, too. Like, I jerk off, sometimes. If I’m bored. Or if I can’t sleep. But, if it’s – like, I don’t like touching other parts of myself, especially if it’s supposed to be about arousal. It makes me feel all twisted and strange, like my body is distancing itself from the feeling. Like my mind is distancing itself from what I’m doing because I don’t like what it _means_.”

He’s breathing so heavily, his chest heaving. It’s almost like he’s been running. Opposite him, Mitch looks –

“Dude,” he says, and it’s so quiet. “ _Dude_. You’ve been carrying all that inside you?”

Willy laughs. A little hysterical. Damp around the edges.

“I guess. I haven’t told anyone else.”

“ _Dude_ ,” Mitch says again. “Oh my god, _Willy_. I’m sorry that you’ve had to carry all of this on your own. It sounds – god, so stressful. Confusing.”

“Yeah,” Willy says. “Just a little.”

 

//

 

Zach has these big hands. Dimples that sink into his cheeks when he smiles. He’s beautiful. Soft. Gentle. He hands Willy a coffee, grins, and it’s like something goes soft inside Willy. His fingers brush Zach’s, and there’s not –

Listen, it’s not like a spark. Mitch always talks about lust like lightning. Like touching Auston sends a bolt through his whole body. Instead, it’s just skin. Skin touching skin, and there’s a soft, aching part of Willy that wants to twist his little finger around Zach’s. He wants to sit in the grass, the sun warm against his back, and have his hand resting next to Zach’s. Just touching. Breathing together. Intimate, but not the way other people mean.

“You alright?” Zach asks.

There’s a crease between his brows. He’s close enough that Willy can feel the heat coming off his body, and –

Willy just wants to curl in closer. Have Zach’s arms slide around him, soft and safe and warm.

“I’m good,” he says. “Where are we supposed to be meeting Mitch?”

“We’re not,” Zach says with a laugh. “He just messaged the group chat, bro. Said he’s still in bed. I’m pretty sure Auston stayed overnight, so they’re probably fucking.”

And –

It’s not that Willy has an issue talking about sex. It’s just –

It feels like a shock, and not a good one, hearing the way it sounds in Zach’s mouth. A little uncomfortable. It makes something ugly fizz under Willy’s skin, and he doesn’t like it.

“Probably,” he says. “Aren’t they always?”

“True,” Zach snorts.

He throws his arm around Willy’s shoulders, and Willy breathes in. Tries not to shiver.

 

//

 

Willy is –

Fuck. He’s just glad that Mitch hasn’t asked him if he’s sure. There’s something about a newfound identity that feels slippery and _are you sure_ would rip it from Willy’s fingers. _Are you sure_ means _you aren’t_. It means weeks of insecurity, chasing after the feeling of knowing himself that he just can’t grasp anymore. _Are you sure_ would mean weeks of forcing himself to think about sex; about flicking through Tinder or going out with the intention of finding someone to fuck. Maybe begging a friend to have sex with him, just so he can try it with someone he trusts.

“It’s – I thought there was something wrong with me, you know?” He says.

It feels like a secret; like he’s sharing something intimate and terrifying.

“Dude,” Mitch says. “There’s nothing wrong with you. Everyone lives a different life, right? Nobody is the same. If you don’t want sex, that’s not _wrong_. It’s just you.”

And –

Willy knows this already. He does. But, having someone else say it, someone he trusts and even probably loves, makes so much difference. It’s acceptance.

 

//

 

Zach’s place is warm. There’s something lived in about it. Willy always thinks that Zach is the only one of them who’s actually a real adult.

“Coffee?” Zach asks, leaning against the kitchen counter.

He’s smiling, and it –

There’s an aching, hurting feeling inside Willy’s chest. He wants –

It feels like he’s stretching for something. Stretching out; reaching out, but at the same time, he’s afraid. Terrified of what it will mean if he does close his hands around something. He can feel the way his body language changes when he’s with Zach; the way he opens up, like a flower. The way he smiles when he sees Zach. The way he meets Zach’s gaze and something goes fluttery in his belly.

It feels like –

There’s always this tension in every interaction they have. Like, if someone moved, something would crack and there would be nothing but heat and lust in the air. Like, if someone blinked, shifted, they’d be kissing. Willy meets Zach’s gaze, and there’s something palpable and throbbing in the air.

The thing is, it’s not –

For Willy, it not sexual. It’s not –

He doesn’t want –

They’re on a couch together, and Willy is being eaten up with how much he wants to shift closer to the sprawl of Zach on the cushions. It feels like, for him, the air is thick with his desire to get close; to slide into Zach’s space. To touch Zach’s hand and twine their fingers together. To let his head rest on Zach’s shoulder. But –

He knows Zach likes sex. He’s heard Zach talking about how much he likes sex. And sometimes, it’s like –

Zach will be talking about sex, and he’ll meet Willy’s gaze, and it –

Makes Willy feel anxious. A twisty, sick feeling slides into his belly, and he can feel the prickly feeling of sweat starting to build in his hairline. He just –

He wants the soft stuff. The nice stuff. It’s not like he would be disgusted if he saw Zach naked. Bodies aren’t inherently sexual. He just doesn’t really want to touch Zach like he thinks Zach wants to be touched. He wants to touch Zach with reverence; with soft hands. Wants to card his hands through Zach’s hair. Wants to –

Wants to –

Wants to fall asleep next to Zach and wake up in the morning to his smile. Wants to have years together; wants them to carry each other through the good times and the bad. Wants to _love_ Zach.

 

//

 

There’s a part of Willy that wants to cry. He won’t. He’s in public, but there’s a small, hurt part of him that wants to sob. He’s been carrying this for so long, and Mitch –

Mitch is here for him.

“I’m just me,” Willy echoes. “Being my authentic self.”

Mitch grins.

“Yeah, dude.”

Willy smiles, but it feels kind of shaky.

“I just -” he starts. “What if – I want -”

“If you want -?” Mitch prompts.

“If I want to date someone. Who’s going to want to date me? They won’t get – I’m not sure I even want to _kiss_ someone, dude. How am I supposed to persuade someone that I’m a good bet when they won’t get half of what they want from a relationship?”

There’s a pause. Mitch looks like his heart is breaking.

“Bro,” he says. “ _Bro_. There are tons of people out there who would be fucking lucky to date you. Willy, dude, relationships are about compromise. About communication, if you’re in a good one. I mean – if Auston told me that he didn’t want sex, well. I love him, right? If he doesn’t want sex with anybody then he doesn’t want sex with anybody. Doesn’t mean we can’t love each other. And it doesn’t mean I would suddenly stop wanting a romantic relationship with him.”

Willy takes a breath, shuddery and a little painful.

“Yeah,” he says. “I guess.”

“Is this -” Mitch starts, before shutting his mouth with a click.

“Is this what?” Willy asks.

“Uh,” Mitch says. “Listen, it doesn’t matter.”

“No,” Willy insists. “What were you going to say?”

Mitch sighs. Taps Willy’s hand gently.

“You don’t have to answer, but. Is this about Zach?”

“About _Zach_?”

“Yeah,” Mitch says. “The whole ‘who would want to date me’ thing. Is it about Zach?”

Willy’s heart is beating so fast. His body feels like it’s shrivelling up from the insides. Fuck. Is it that obvious? He doesn’t –

“Fuck,” he says. “ _Fuck_. Of course it’s about Zach. I can’t – why is this my _life_? He’s so – fuck, he’s so great. But you know what he’s like. He’s that super great dude who, like, fucks around. I don’t want to fuck around. Even if I wanted sex, I don’t think I’d want to fuck around. I have, like, hardcore feelings for him, you know? All the lets-get-married-and-adopt-eight-babies feelings.”

“Yeah,” Mitch says. “About that. I’m pretty sure he has hella feelings for you too, bro.”

Willy snorts.

“No,” Mitch says. “Like, you haven’t heard him. He was talking to Auston the other day about this dude he’s _pining_ for, and he wouldn’t tell us who, but like. It was pretty obvious it was you, bro.”

“I don’t think -”

“Dude,” Mitch says. “Just, like accept that he wants to hold your hand, man.”

It feels like too much. The background noise of the café seems too loud. Mitch’s face looks too fierce. He’s holding up a hand, and he seems to be trying to glare Willy into submission.

“Uh,” Willy says.

“Accept it!”

Willy starts to laugh. Inside, it feels a little bit like something cracks. Like a wall shatters, and suddenly he’s free to breathe.

“Oh my god,” he says. “Fine. Fine, I accept it.”

Mitch smirks.

“Good.”

 

//

 

Willy ends up at the park with Zach. It’s kind of ridiculous. The sun is shining overhead, and Zach brought a picnic. He keeps pointing at clouds and saying that they look like puppies, even when they clearly don’t. It feels… kind of like a date. Willy’s pretty sure it’s _not_ , but then –

Zach keeps moving closer. It’s subtle, but the day is warm enough that any extra body heat is noticeable. His hand keeps brushing Willy’s, and it’s making something fizz in Willy’s stomach. He finds himself swaying closer, too. He can’t stop giggling, something warm and eager bubbling under his skin. Everything feels funnier and brighter, and there’s a part of Willy that wants to touch the curve of Zach’s smile. He wants to put his head in Zach’s lap, look up at the sky and bask in the feeling of spending time with Zach.

“That one definitely looks like a retriever,” Zach says, pointing at a cloud.

“No,” Willy says, laughing. “It looks like a house, dude.”

“Uh, no.” Zach says, pushing at Willy gently. “It’s one hundred per cent a retriever.”

Willy jostles Zach again, giggling, and Zach shoves him back, and it doesn’t take much before they’re fake-fighting. Willy can’t stop laughing, and Zach won’t stop tickling him, until suddenly, Willy’s on his back, with Zach hovering over him, and it’s like –

The laughter dies. Zach’s pupils look huge, and he’s staring at Willy like he wants to _eat_ him. And Willy –

His stomach goes tense. His hands are shaking as they press against Zach’s shoulders above him. Zach blinks. Licks his lips. Takes a breath, leans in, and Willy –

Panics. Pushes Zach roughly away and scrambles into a sitting position.

“I -” he starts. “I’m sorry -”

Zach looks stricken.

“Oh, god, no. Don’t apologise. _I’m_ sorry. I thought you wanted -”

“No,” Willy says.

It feels like his heart is beating ten times too fast. It’s not that he doesn’t necessarily want to kiss Zach, but a kiss feels like an admission of something he doesn’t want. A kiss leads to sex, and –

Fuck. He might like kissing. Or, he might not. He has no idea. But right now, he doesn’t want _anything_. It all feels like too much. Like there’s something gross and slimy curling under his skin, and he doesn’t know how to get rid of it. He feels guilty and weird and overstimulated.

“I’m sorry,” Zach says, again. “Fuck, Willy. I’m sorry.”

“You -” Willy starts. Tries to gather his thoughts. “You don’t have to be sorry. You didn’t know. You stopped when I asked.”

“Fuck,” Zach says. “Of course. Of _course_.”

“I just -” Willy says. “I think I’m going to go home.”

He feels too shaky. Like his blood sugar is too low. His skin feels cold, even despite the sun.

“Of course, dude.” Zach says. “Do you – I can drop you home?”

“I think,” Willy says. “I’m just going to get an Uber for now. It’s not – Listen, I don’t want you to – I just need some time. You know?”

“Yeah,” Zach says. “Of course.”

 

//

 

Willy ends up at Mitch’s. Mitch takes one look at his face and tugs him into the house.

“What happened?”

He pushes Willy towards the sofa. Grabs a bottle of Gatorade and hands that over too.

“Zach tried to kiss me,” Willy says.

His hands won’t stop shaking.

“Okay?”

“I like – I panicked and pushed him away, and like. I think I made it seem like I didn’t like him. I just wasn’t ready. I didn’t feel ready.”

“Dude,” Mitch says. “It’s okay not to feel ready. And it’s okay not to want to kiss Zach. I just – I thought you liked him?”

“I do! I just panicked. And now he’s going to think I hate him.”

Mitch sighs. Squishes himself onto the couch next to Willy and slings an arm around him.

“Listen,” he says. “You need to have a conversation with him, yeah? It’s not like he’s going to be a dick about it. If he doesn’t – listen, if he doesn’t want a relationship without sex, then that’s one thing. But you won’t know unless you talk to him. And, you know. He definitely wants _a_ relationship with you. You just need to be clear about your boundaries. Talk about what you want. What you don’t want. What you’d be willing to try. And if that doesn’t work for him, that doesn’t work for him, but. You won’t know unless you try, bro.”

“I know,” Willy says, letting his head rest on Mitch’s shoulder. “I know that, but like. It’s scary.”

“It’s always scary,” Mitch says. “Feelings are scary and loving people is hard. It’ll be worth it, though. It’s always worth it. If it’s a no, then you can start to let Zach go. If it’s a yes, then. You get to _be_ with him.”

“Yeah,” Willy says. “I guess.”

 

//

 

Willy spends the evening feeling sorry for himself, sacked out on Mitch’s sofa watching trash telly. Auston comes home in the early evening, offers him a hug, and then proceeds to absolutely thrash him in GTA.

It’s not until he’s leaving that Auston says anything about the situation.

“Talk to him,” he says.

He smiles, and it’s –

An Auston smile is different to a Mitch smile. A Mitch smile is so freely given. He’s like sunshine. Auston’s smiles _mean_ something in a way that Mitch’s don’t.

“I will,” Willy promises.

So –

He finds himself pacing outside Zach’s door. He forces himself to knock on the door, fidgeting nervously while he waits for it to open. Zach looks shocked when he sees him on the doorstep, before his face closes off.

“Willy,” he says. “I didn’t think you’d want to see me.”

“I -” Willy says. “Listen, can I come in? I have some stuff I need to tell you. That I probably should have told you ages ago.”

Zach shrugs, but moves out the way so that Willy can get past him. He trails after Willy, standing awkwardly in the doorway once Willy gets himself settled on a kitchen barstool.

“Listen, I -” he starts, but Zach interrupts him.

“Willy, god, I’m so sorry, I -”

“No, wait,” Willy says. “Zach, just – don’t say anything yet. Look, I don’t want to have sex with you.”

Zach flinches. His shoulders twitch.

“Dude,” he says. “I know. I got that earlier, with the whole not wanting to kiss me thing.”

Willy sucks in a breath. Puts out a hand. Touches the brittle edge of Zach’s wrist.

“Bro,” he says. “No, you don’t understand.”

Zach snorts.

“Willy, don’t – look, I get it just fine. You don’t want to fuck me. It’s not like – if you don’t want to fuck me, you don’t want to fuck me. You don’t want to date me. That’s fine. I just need some time to like, get over it.”

Willy feels like he’s sweating. The conversation is running away from him, and he doesn’t know how to explain what he means.

“It’s not – I just don’t want to see you naked,” he tries.

“Willy, _please_. I got it the first time. Please stop.”

“But I -”

“No,” Zach says. “Please. I just need some time. I’ll like, cry in a corner for a bit, and then I’ll be fine.”

He laughs a little, but it sounds wet.

“But -” Willy starts, and he’s practically yelling. Desperate to make himself heard. “I want to date you. I _love_ you! I just don’t want to have sex with you. Look – I – I’m asexual.”

Zach looks at him blankly.

“Like. _Fuck_. I’m romantically interested in people. In _you_. I just don’t want to have sex.”

Zach blinks. Opens his mouth. Shuts it again.

“Look, I totally get if that doesn’t work for you,” Willy says. “We’re all different, right? And if you need sex in a relationship, that’s fine. I’ll be fine. I – I’ll get over it. I won’t be weird, I promise.”

He starts to turn to leave, but Zach reaches out. Touches his elbow. He’s breathing kind of shakily, but there’s something like resolve sitting across his shoulders.

“Willy. _Fuck._ Dude, I really like you too. It’s not – I don’t have to have sex, bro. It’s not like sex is a necessity, right? I won’t die.”

“I mean,” Willy says. “You don’t have to make decision now. I get that it’s a big thing to deal with, you know? I don’t want to ask you to change. I just… needed you to know.”

“Eh,” Zach says. “I have a hand, right? It’s cool. I’m pretty adept at jerking off by now. Listen, I want to hold _your_ hand more than I want to fuck around with strangers. If I get to cuddle with you, that beats anything else.”

“You want to -”

Zach smiles. Slides his hand up to Willy’s shoulder. Touches his cheek.

“I _like_ you. I’ve liked you for so long. If – look, I’m not saying that it’s not a concern for me, but if you don’t want sex, we’ll find something that works for us both. I just want to be with you. Whatever that looks like.”

“I -” Willy starts. “ _Fuck_.”

He ducks his head. Shuffles in closer. Wraps his arms around Zach and presses his face into his skin. Breathes in, surrounded by the smell of laundry powder and a hint of sweat. Zach’s arms slide around him, strong and reassuring, his chin coming to rest on Willy’s shoulder, and it’s –

It’s perfect.

 

//

 

They do have a conversation about boundaries. About what Willy does and doesn’t want, as well as those things that he’s not really sure about. The things that he’s willing to try. He’s pretty sure he’ll never understand kissing, but Zach likes it, and he doesn’t _mind_ it.

Sex is definitely off the table, but he likes touching Zach. Likes sliding his hand into Zach’s. Likes being in Zach’s space. Doesn’t mind giving a massage or touching the skin of Zach’s stomach when they cuddle. He just –

He means it affectionately. It doesn’t _go_ anywhere for him.

Of course, inevitably, Zach gets aroused. They work out that Will doesn’t think arousal is gross, per se. He doesn’t mind if Zach gets hard. He just doesn’t want to do anything about it. Zach ends up jerking off a lot. In a way, Willy kind of likes that he’s the reason that Zach’s turned on. He just –

Doesn’t want to think about himself and sex at the same time. Zach gets that.

 

//

 

(Willy gets his fantasy. Hits thirty, and finds himself in supermarkets with Zach, bickering over the kind of cereal to get. Gets to cuddle Zach on the sofa and watch trashy movies. Shares a bed and gets to wake up to Zach’s smile.

It’s –

Well, it’s pretty great).

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings:
> 
> \- There's a moment where one character tries to kiss another character who really doesn't want to be kissed. He apologises and backs off, but it makes the other character pretty stressed/unhappy.  
> \- Description of a panic attack 
> 
> Please let me know if you feel this needs more tags or more comprehensive warnings.
> 
> [tumblr ](http://teamfreeawesome.tumblr.com)


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